


Just Sleep

by FloralBucky



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Anxiety, Character Death Fix, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Psychological Torture, mentions of - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralBucky/pseuds/FloralBucky
Summary: "Somehow he survived. Bodhi remembered seeing the stormtrooper out of the corner of his eye, hearing the grenade land with a hollow bang against the metal floor of the ship, and then fire filled his vision and everything went black."Aka: Bodhi survives the destruction of Scarif and has some trouble with sleep.





	

Somehow he survived.

Bodhi remembered seeing the stormtrooper out of the corner of his eye, hearing the grenade land with a hollow bang against the metal floor of the ship, and then fire filled his vision and everything went black.

  
The next thing he knew he was jolted into consciousness by the violent rocking of the ship beneath him. He lurched away from the wall he was leaned up against and gasped, pain shooting through his entire body. His skin burned like it was still on fire and the sight of his own charred, bleeding flesh made bile rise to his throat. He turned to the side and gagged, his entire stomach heaving, but nothing came up. His mouth tasted like bitter ash, and his head spun as he dragged himself back into a sitting position.  
Bodhi looked around sluggishly, his vision swimming as his head pounded. He was on a rebel ship, surrounded by people in similar conditions. Medics moved quietly from person to person, offering the little help they could provide while the ship was still in the air. A medical droid came whirring up to him, did a brief body scan, and without comment sprayed him from head to toe with a mist that dulled the pain in his skin almost immediately.

  
“The treatment is temporary,” the droid said in a high, squeaking voice, “but it will dull the pain of all exterior injuries. You shall receive more medical attention once the ship reaches the rebel base on Yavin IV.”

With that, it rolled away to help someone else before he could even say thank you.  
Bodhi was grateful for the droid’s medicine, but it did nothing to stop his raging headache and the immense pain in his joints. He leaned his head back against the cold metal wall behind him and, miraculously, was pulled into an uneasy sleep.

  
The next time Bodhi started awake, he was lying face up on a cot in what appeared to be the medical wing of the rebel base. He shot to a sitting position, startled by the drastic change in his surroundings, but was immediately halted by the pain in his head. He groaned and fell back against the pillows. A medic heard his cry of pain and bustled over, pushing against his chest and pressing him further back into the cot.

  
“Please do not try to sit up,” she said, her eyebrows knitted together in concern and focus.

As soon as she was certain Bodhi wasn’t going to try and move again, the medic unhooked the datapad from the end of his cot and began scrolling through. He watched her as she did so, and the light reflecting off the top of her pale green, bald skull made him dizzy. After a moment she returned the datapad to its place and approached him.

  
“You came into the rebel base from Scarif on one of the rescue ships, and you were immediately administered a bacta treatment that successfully healed 98% of your burns,” she said, still looking him over.

  
Bodhi, shocked, looked down at his skin, which did indeed appear to be healed. It still felt a bit tender, but the sight of it no longer made him want to throw up.

  
“You have a rather severe concussion so I highly suggest that you stay one more night in the med bay so you can be monitored. Highly,” she said again more firmly as he moved to get up.

  
“Are you sure it will only be one more night?” he asked slightly desperately. He suddenly felt a strong desire to get out of there, to be surrounded by fresh air and the stars instead of the heavy scent of sickness and death. “And then I’m free to go?”

  
“I’m sure,” she said with a satisfied smile. “Someone will be in to bring you dinner shortly, but for now, please try to rest.”

  
He smiled weakly at her as she left and turned in his cot until he felt reasonably comfortable. The second sleep dared to brush the corners of his mind; he felt the dark lick of something worse lurking, but by then he was already unconscious.

  
Bodhi was drowning. He was being thrashed about by the dark, unforgiving waves, his limbs snapping back and forth like a ragdoll’s. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t close his eyes, and the darkness surged towards him and pushed him away. He was running out of air, and spots were beginning to blot out his vision. He could almost feel it; the water seeping into his mouth and filling his lungs, choking him with salt and bitter blackness. Right before he succumbed to the pain he felt a creature slithering up towards him from below. Or it could have been above. He couldn’t tell which direction was up anymore.  
A slimy, quivering tentacle brushed against his ankle, and then grabbed his leg and dragged him down, down, down. He could feel the water rushing past his ears as he was pulled further into the depths and more and more tentacles grabbed his limbs and tore him down faster. Then he felt one slide over his head, slip across his face and over his nose and then it was inside his mouth, choking him, and he couldn’t breathe, and…

  
“Bodhi!” a voice said urgently, jerking him out of his nightmare. His eyes snapped open and darted around the room, wildly searching for the source of the voice. For some reason, he couldn’t find who had spoken, and he was growing more anxious by the second. His skin was dripping with sweat, and his burnt, choppy hair stuck to his forehead. He felt like he couldn’t breathe again, just like in his dream. His breath sped up at the thought of his dream, at the reminder of what Bor Gullet did to him, and how invasive it was, and how he felt violated and raw and used and empty and sick after. A twisted feeling rose in his throat, and he scrambled over to the edge of the cot and retched over the side, his entire body shaking. He was still struggling to breathe, his mind hazy, and panic overwhelmed him.  
Suddenly there were warm, dry hands on his own and a familiar face swam in front of his eyes.

  
“Bodhi you’ve got to breathe!” the voice commanded. “Breathe with me!”

The person in front of him proceeded to take deep, slow breaths, and after a minute Bodhi was able to slow his erratic heartbeat down to match. As his breathing returned to normal, so did his vision, and Cassian slowly came into focus in front of Bodhi. His face was no more than a foot away, features twisted in concern and…was that fear? The second Bodhi realized who it was he threw himself back against the headboard of his cot, desperately putting a few feet between them.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeated frantically as he pulled his legs as close up to his chest as they would go. “I’m sorry-”

  
“Bodhi, stop,” Cassian said, firmly but gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you hear me? Nothing. All that matters is that you're okay."

  
Bodhi nodded hesitantly, still rocking back and forth slightly, and dared a glance up at Cassian. The other man’s warm dark eyes were still focused patiently on his face, and the intensity of Cassian’s gaze made Bodhi flush and look quickly back at his knees. After a moment of loud silence, Bodhi timidly opened his mouth to speak.

  
“I think...” he began haltingly, tripping over his words, “I think I was dreaming about Bor-” he began, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish the name. “…About what happened with Saw Gerrera,” he said lamely. “About what he did to me.” A tiny voice inside whispered that he deserved it, that he deserved what Saw did, and that it was penance for being involved with the Empire in the first place. He shivered.

  
Cassian’s gaze hardened in acceptance at his words as if he had already guessed what Bodhi had been dreaming about.

  
“What Saw Gerrera did,” he began but paused to take a deep, harsh breath. “What Saw Gerrera did to you was terrible, and you did not deserve any of it. No one does, but especially not you. Especially not you,” he repeated softly.

  
Bodhi’s heart twinged painfully at Cassian’s words, and he averted his gaze. Only then did he notice the tray of food on the small table next to his cot.

  
“Did you…did you bring me dinner?” he asked softly. Cassian followed his line of sight.

  
“Oh, yes,” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair as if he had completely forgotten the food was there. “I was on my way here when I ran into a medical droid who said it was supposed to bring you dinner. I offered to take it since I was already coming to see you.”

  
Bodhi’s eyes were as round as two moons. “You…you were coming to see me? Why?” He honestly couldn’t fathom why Cassian would want to visit him in the med bay when Jyn and Chirrut and Baze and his other rebel friends were injured and sick and perhaps even dead. Even Cassian probably had injuries to be looked at that were much more important than him.

  
“They fixed me up hours ago,” Cassian said as if he had read Bodhi’s mind. “And I came to see you because I care about you,” he said firmly. “Now it doesn’t seem like anyone’s going to be eating dinner anytime soon, so the best you can do for yourself is get some sleep. You need to heal.”

  
Bodhi stared at him like he had grown another head. Sleep was the last thing Bodhi wanted or needed right now because clearly he could hardly sleep a few hours without being awoken by a horrifying nightmare.

  
But once again, Cassian seemed to read his mind. “I’m going to stay right here and watch over you. If you even twitch, I’ll wake you up, okay?”

  
Bodhi, still shocked, nodded, then slowly slid down until he was underneath the thin sheet on his cot. Cassian was still perched on the edge, and he enveloped Bodhi’s hands in his once the other man was settled. Bodhi’s mouth fell open in surprise, but Cassian just smiled softly at him.

  
“Close your eyes, Bodhi. I will be here with you the whole time. Just sleep.”

  
The reverent way Cassian said his name sent a shiver down Bodhi’s spine, and he closed his eyes as Cassian instructed. Cassian began rubbing his thumbs soothingly along Bodhi’s fisted hands, tracing the veins underneath his skin and gently caressing his healing flesh. After several minutes of this, all the tension bled out of Bodhi’s body, and he fell into another deep sleep, reassured by Cassian’s warm presence beside him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah okay...I don't know what this is either. I just refuse to accept the ending of Rogue One and I have some serious Bodhi feels that I needed to work through.


End file.
